


The Worst Timing

by KitchyKitty



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, In Public, Non-Consensual Tickling, Tickling, bizarre alien customs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 03:55:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13872579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitchyKitty/pseuds/KitchyKitty
Summary: A spontaneous trip for adventure lands the Doctor in trouble when he finds out he arrived during an extremely intrusive courting custom in which all viable bachelors on the planet must participate.





	The Worst Timing

“You must come with me, quit stalling.”

It seemed rather unlikely that a man who could travel to anywhere and anywhen could have such unfortunate timing. But even the Doctor could admit — quietly, and mostly to himself — that he could be a bit careless during his travels. And landing on the planet Taulu during mating season was definitely one of those times.

“No, you don’t understand, there’s been a terrible mistake!”

A slender, bipedal alien with flattish facial features and incredibly smallish eyes dragged him rather insistently toward a crowded plaza. Two much more brutish creatures of the same species thudding along heavily on either side of them told him his current handler was only a façade of ‘gentle’ politeness. Resistance could potentially get ugly.

Spindly violet and pink flowers on thorny stalks grew surprisingly densely under the baking hot sun that scorched any earth left unpaved. Fortunately, most of the populated area was shaded by thick, cloth canopies strung high overhead. Bells and tubes that resonated with sandy wind chimed pleasantly all around.

“It’s not that I don’t want to stay on your lovely planet, but I really must be off! Did I mention how busy I am? Right now? At this very moment?” He twisted and turned his wrist, hoping to slip away, but she seemed to read his every intention, adjusting her grip accordingly. “I’ve got very important previous engagements—! Well … future previous engagements if I’m being accurate, but that’s beside the point.” 

Pausing, the smooth-faced woman turned with a somewhat puzzled expression. “You’ve had plenty of warning, it’s being broadcast to all spacecraft in the vicinity that all visitors by law must participate in Passion Contact to find their destined mate. If you had such pressing business, you should not have landed.”

The Doctor’s eyes darted. “Well, I didn’t exactly come in through the front door.” If only he hadn’t been so antsy after dropping Amy and Rory off to make the regular pit stop to live their so-called normal lives. But it was terribly hard to sit still when there was so much to see and _do_ in the entirety of the universe.

“Perhaps fate brought you here then. It’s not unusual for outsiders to devalue our beliefs—”

“No, no! Plenty of respect here. Of course I don’t mean anything against your culture — _well_ , perhaps it’s a bit imposing on those who stumble in on it, isn’t it? It’s just that, well … I’m seeing someone currently. …Or at least I think I am, it can be rather difficult to tell sometimes.” Maddening, and yet wonderfully so, his River.

“Seeing?” Yet again, a careless slip for someone so brilliant. “To truly know with whom you belong, you must _feel_. Touch! That’s what Passion Contact is all about. The one who’s touch has the most profound effect and makes your soul sing is your destiny!” The Taulu natives didn’t place much worth on sight as their own was biologically poor, mostly only able to discern general shapes and colors in the brightest of light, and so were much more attuned to their other senses.

“O-oh, yes, of course we’ve touched…!” The fact that she could probably feel him flushing made him flush even more. “I mean, in a platonic way! So far! For me at least. To be honest, it’s all rather confusing…. I’m not helping my case at all, am I?” He tugged on his arm feebly while discreetly tucking his sonic screwdriver in his sleeve. 

He hadn’t expected his shirt to be taken. Careless mistake number three. Not that he was counting. 

He was led to one of several platforms within the shaded plaza, his wrists chained loosely above his head — not uncomfortably so — bare back resting against a padded pole. Before he was blindfolded, as all optic-adept aliens to Taulu were obligated to be for the ceremony, he glimpsed the line of females gathered around each platform eagerly waiting their turn. Most were Tauluen, naturally, though a surprising number of other races had come to participate. He shook his head with a weak chuckle. The prospect of love could be such a powerful drive to explore the universe to find it. 

His brief amusement was crowded out by the reality of his predicament. He knew the ceremony was all about reaction to touch. What kind, he wasn’t sure of — the possibilities of pain or pleasure equally dreadful; but he was not oblivious to his current body’s tendency to reactively flap about. Traitorous thing.

The sense of someone approaching made him suddenly more apprehensive, pressing himself back against the pole, hearts pounding. At the very least, he could try to eliminate one of the possibilities to better steel himself. “I would ask that you don’t hurt me…,” he quietly entreated, though with their heightened auditory senses, he was sure most of his audience could hear his request. He swore he could hear a few pairs of feet walking away from his platform.

“I don’t plan to,” the woman who had approached first assured, placing gentle fingers against his chest. 

A shuddery intake of breath escaped him at the initial touch, but he allowed nothing more, bracing himself against any carnal enjoyment, resolved to keep silent and still. However, she surprised him, streaking her fingertips delicately down his sides and pinching at his lower belly.

He squeaked, dancing on the spot, lips helplessly curling upward. “Th-that tickles!” he protested, almost indignant that she’d skirted his expectations so quickly. She chuckled — as did the crowd rather riotously — and he pouted and blushed, though he soon was rendered into a stream of reluctant giggles as fingers explored and scratched at his ribs.

In all honesty, tickling was a relief compared to the other extremes his nerves could have endured — but, oh, was this body ever terribly ticklish! Lamenting his unexpected sensitivity, the Doctor thudded his head against the pole, attempting to gather himself back together. “Aaha! Hahaaha—nn! Eheh! Ghnnhn—HahaHA!” It was no use as her fingers skated under his arms and brushed over his neck and shoulders. On the edge of another plea, he bit his tongue, wondering if she would switch to something even less desirable if he begged her to stop.

When she was satisfied that they weren’t quite in harmony with each other, and the next woman approached, he found himself more apprehensive and tense than before, nerves still tingling. He was jolted back into chuckles as new sets of fingers dug and tweaked just under his ribs, squeezing vigorously down his sides and clawing at his belly. “Oh—AHAhaaHA! HAhahahaah!” This second assault was not nearly as gentle, earning thrashes and futile tugs from him. “NnaHAHAhaaha, oh s-stahaa—! Hahaha!”

It soon became apparent that the crowd decided tickling would be the best way to handle him as every change of hands brought new ways to make him jump and laugh. Fingers twisting between his toes had him squirming; he was unable to quell giggles at soft scritches to his neck. Some cooed niceties or teases at him, though quite a few remained silent, fully immersed in the experience of touching and feeling out his reactions. 

As it went on, he attempted to be more guarded, his responses indeed diminishing — though perhaps fatigue was kicking in as well. If he wasn’t the Doctor, he might have lost count of the number of hopeful bachelorettes, but at fifty-eight, he was seriously considering asking for the relentless tickles to end, even if it were replaced by something more demeaning.

At the sensation of more fingertips gently settling on his shoulders, he whimpered.

“Shhh….” His current assailant hovered quite close to him, softly scratching at the tops of his shoulders in the most maddening of ways, causing him to shudder and toss them. She followed his movements flawlessly, trailing over his neck and skipping down to his sides with merciless, alternating strokes. Suddenly her mouth settled just between his neck and shoulder, humming and nibbling ever so gently.

“Ah—ahaHA~HAHAhahaa!” Something seemed to awaken inside of him, and he became hyper-aware of her touch, the fatigue melting away. Oh, this was not good. Everything she did tickled horribly — or wonderfully, he couldn’t tell anymore. The chiming bells and wind devices throbbed in his eardrums, resonating through him as his nerves tingled and sparked.

The remaining observers seemed to notice the difference as they chittered excitedly amongst themselves. They would insist he found his soul mate and force him to go home with an alien that could easily drive him mad before he found a way to escape. He couldn’t allow that.

“AheHA! Pleaheese, st—! GH! Nahaiiieee~haHA! HAHA~haaHA!” Tactical fingers combining sensation under his ribs and at his neck left him nearly breathless, lips stretched to their widest. He attempted to beg her to stop again, but she merely squeezed more humiliating squeals from him. “AHAHA! A-ahall rihight! Nnhnn, o-okay! It’s you, you win! Or however this works…!”

“Had enough, sweetie?” she cooed, having already withdrawn.

Breath hitching in surprise, a cool relief flooded through him. “ _River_ …?” Someone released him from the pole and he swayed, though she was there to catch him. As he lifted his blindfold, she shoved his shirt and shoes at him.

“Were you expecting someone else to win you over?” She helped him off the ceremonial platform, letting him lean and pant against her shoulder. “Should I be jealous?”

“I just didn’t expect you to be here.” Thank goodness, he could feel the screwdriver’s weight inside his sleeve cuff, and he quickly pried it out before pulling his shirt back on. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about his disheveled appearance for now, but he still fixed the askew bowtie. Priorities. “But let me guess: spoilers?”

“If you’d believe it, coincidence, actually.”

“Impossible!”

“Of all people to say such a thing.” She laughed. “It seems we both suffer from bad timing.”

And maybe his senses were still readjusting because the melody of her voice was richer and fuller than he’d ever noticed before. “Anyway, let’s get out of here before anything else happens. Do you need a ride?”

“Oh, sweetie, don’t you know? Now that we’re recognized as soul mates, we get a complimentary room for the next three days to celebrate!”

“R-River, stop joking!”

“Actually, it’s more of an obligation. You don’t want to insult Tauluen custom, do you?”

“You’re _joking!_ ”

“Do you want me to be?” Her eyes held a playful light that the natives would never be able to appreciate as he did now.

He felt her hand search for his, the warmth of her fingers entwining and spreading as he accepted them with a squeeze.


End file.
